"I'm not going." I said, my tone firm, as I tossed the envelope in the trash. There was absolutely no reason for me to go to my ten year reunion at Dove Forest High. I didn't even live in Salem anymore. It was pointless. I lived in LA and I was not going to spend a fortune on a plane ticket just to go back and drink champagne with people I hated, listening to them tell each other how awesome they were. It would be just like high school.

"Come on, babe." Braeden said to me. "Why wouldn't you want to go? There is nothing that they can do to you now. You're hot, you're successful, and you've got one hell of a husband. He grinned at me, thinking he could win me over with that crooked smile.

"I hated those people, I hated that school, and I didn't go to our five year reunion, what makes you think I'm going to go to this one." I asked him as I folded Molly's soccer uniform, setting it in the basket with the rest of her clothes. I'd married Braeden Walker right out of high school, and we'd had Jack and Molly the following year. I couldn't believe the twins were almost nine now. Sometimes it seemed like only yesterday I was walking down those hated halls.

1997."Hart's dad was arrested again last night." Tami Walters said as she strolled into the ladies with her two best friends. I couldn't see her from where I was in the stall, but I knew their voices. Everyone did. They were the gossip queens of Dove Forest High. "You'd think they'd just put him away already, I mean once white trash, always white trash." She giggled and pushed up her stuffed bra.

Bitch.

Someday I was going to take that blonde hair by its black roots and slam her face into the paper towel dispenser. It was funny what people talked about in high school bathrooms when they thought no one was listening, but Tami made her distaste for my family known anywhere she went.

"You're evil." Anastasia Nichols told her. All three of the girls giggled, soaking up the awesomeness of each other.

It was the first day of senior year, and already I wanted to go and hide in my locker, and if I'd really wanted to, I actually could have.

"You know, I don't even see what Braeden Walker sees in Elizabeth anyway." Tami continued. She was talking about my boyfriend. We'd been together ever since my first day here, and with the exception of one brief break up during sophomore year, we were nearly the perfect couple. "She's not even that pretty, who goes for the mousy little tiny things these days anyway?"

Sorry, but we can't all be 5'10" with perfect skin like Tami Walters. She'd hated me since the day we met. The day my family moved to town. She'd always liked Braeden, but he was never interested in her. I guess that was why she hated me so much, or maybe there was another reason, I never bothered to ask.

Tami applied her lipgloss, completely oblivious to the fact that anyone was here with her but her clones. They were applying their lip gloss too. Tami, Anastasia, and Roxanne Miller always did everything together. They were all cheerleaders and the most worshiped girls in school. Almost every guy wanted to date them, and every girl wanted to be them, or at least friends with them, because if you were on the inside, no one could touch you.

I don't know why, but I never wanted to be one of them. I liked it on the outside. Maybe that was because I didn't want to be permanently attached to Tami's ass all the time like her "friends" were.

"I don't know, she's kind of adorable, if you go for that whole…my size Barbie thing." Roxanne giggled. And she was one to talk, since she was only about two or three inches taller than I was.

"Hey, did you hear her mother's been in a mental institution since she was like six or something?" Anastasia offered, slipping her lip gloss back into her bag at the same time as the other girls. "You know they say mental illness runs in the family. Maybe little Lizzie will go crazy and end up like her mom, and then Braeden will be all yours, Tam-Tam." She smirked, I could see it in the mirror through the tiny crack in the stall. Anastasia's dad was a psychiatrist, so she always thought she could come to school and psychoanalyze everyone.

There was a bit of a pause and then they giggled again. They were worse than cackling witches, it was fitting that we lived in Salem.

"Oh hey so did you see what Anthony was wearing to school today?" Roxanne asked the girls. "I mean, does he get dressed in the dark or does he let his mother pick out his clothes, and if he does, is she blind?" Another minute and a half of giggling.

They were talking about Anthony Brooks, a shy, but pretty sweet boy, even if he was a little lacking in the fashion department. I doubted he even said two words to anyone the entire time I'd known him. It annoyed me. I wished they'd find someone else to pick on, maybe someone in their own little exclusive perfect circle. I could have walked out right then and let them know that I heard everything they'd said, but it wouldn't matter, and I didn't want to give them reason to giggle again.

I waited until they'd left to come out. How they got out of missing that much class time to take a bathroom break was beyond me. It was probably because they were cheerleaders. Jocks and cheerleaders were treated like royalty here. And they all acted like stuck up kings and queens too, with the exception of course of Braeden, and also of Teresa Ramirez.

Teresa was a cheerleader, but she was also my friend. She'd been Braeden's best friend since they were in diapers. They were neighbors. I often wondered if I hadn't come along if they'd be together. They had that whole vibe sometimes. She was near perfect looking, almost 5'7" with dark hair and eyes. Everyone was always telling her how she could be a model.

I splashed some water on my face and turned off the sink, shaking my head a little. It was the first day of senior year, and I already couldn't wait to be out of there for good.

The Present.

"Lizzie? Lizzie!" It had seemed that Braeden had been trying to get my attention for awhile now. I hadn't even noticed, until now. I shook my head and looked up at him. I still hadn't rolled up Molly's socks, they'd been in my hand for…well I wasn't even sure how long now.

"What?" I finally asked, I must have really spaced. I did that sometimes, everyone did. And I was so tired. It wasn't easy being a mother of two and a costume designer in Hollywood.

"Where did you go?" Braeden asked me, still with that grin on his face. "I mean I was almost expecting drool babe, you feeling okay?"

"Nowhere, I'm fine." I told him, continuing to pair the socks. "I'm just a little tired, that's all." I nodded, giving him a smile. It was forced, but he didn't need to know that.

"Well can we at least talk about this?" He questioned me.

"Talk about what? There is nothing to talk about." I told him. I knew what he was talking about, but my mind was already made up. I didn't want to go.

"Baby…" He said, taking the socks from my hands and putting his hands on my shoulders. "High school was not that bad, was it? I mean, they can't say anything to you now. You work in Hollywood. Don't you want to make them all jealous of your great life?"